


The Feral Beast

by Mayor_Skeleton



Category: Bionic Dog (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 09:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16637540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayor_Skeleton/pseuds/Mayor_Skeleton





	The Feral Beast

" _I'm sure you'll find your words powerful, yet...ultimately **lacking**._"

That was the last straw. This wretch has the absolute gall to insult not only at his height, at his intuition, AND his craft...but to insult his skill and his power? He has no right. A feral beast such as the man standing in front of him, a crooked grin stitched across his horrid face, has no right to carelessly throw such belittlement to MORLUCITANARCH.  
His moves were quick and deliberate, like they always are. Momo jumps into Arlen, ultimately head-butting his stomach, and knocking the taller man to the ground with a solid grunt. Dust from the old cavern floor rises up around them and as it clears, Arlen is face to face with the widest smile he's ever seen.

   "How does it feel-"  
Momo begins, unsheathing his blade and pressing the tip confidently against the tender skin of Arlen's neck.  
   "-To be tamed, beast? You better tell me now, before your mind is reduced to that of less than mush. Less than the ground we walk on."  
The tip digs deeper, almost dangerously so, but Momo keeps his hand even. He does not wish to kill or harm this man. No, the desired effect is much more...tantalizing. As Momo watches Arlen's face turn from a ghostly pale to a nearly flushed, rosy red, his grin get's even sharper. His plan is working- just like he had known it will.  
   "No words, beast? You were so full of them before...what happened? Have you lost your nerve? Your spine? Your guts? Is it really that laughably easy to tame you?"  
Arlen swallows, feeling his adams apple press against the blade.  
   "You...have just caught me unawares. This, in no way, signals my defeat. I cannot be tamed, Morlucitanarch, and this is just a claim you have to be-"

Before Arlen can even finish speaking, Momo rears back his blade and catches the bottom edge of his sweater. In one swift pull he cuts through the soft fabric, slicing the sweater in two, and watching as it splays open much like how his blazer is. Arlen can't help but shiver as he feels his bare chest exposed to the air, looking down at the damage and then bringing his eyes back up to the smaller man that straddles him. Momo licks his lips, smiles, and gently glides the tip of his blade from the base of Arlen's neck down to his naval. It's not enough to pierce his skin, not even enough to mark it, but it's enough to prove a point. Seeing as Arlen swallows, yet again from nerves, it seems that he can get said point.  
   "You...You cannot tame me," Arlen tries, but it's clear now that he's losing confidence. His voice shakes and his once so prominent prose has been diluted to the bear minimum.  
Momo doesn't give him a counter. He just smiles, brings his blade back up to his breast, and draws a deep line from collar bones to naval that makes Arlen gasp out. Little pinpricks of blood start to seep out from the cut as the their eyes meet. It's a silent, subtle gesture-  
A gesture that means Momo has won.

Time passes and It isn't long until Arlen is a quaking, shivering mess under Momo. There are plenty of lovingly drawn marks across the man's chest now- ranging from cite marks, to scratches, to deep cuts, and extravagantly carved lettering. There is no spot free of Morlucitanarch's influence...and there is no resistance coming from the beast, now. In fact, he looks up at Momo with far-away eyes, and asks him for more.  
   "Momo," Arlen starts, pleadingly, "Please...another...deeper..."  
The short blade get's held in front of the poor beast for a moment, dripping with his blood. Momo smiles, almost sweetly, before slowly taking the blade and pushing it into the side of his gut. The sharp tip passes through his skin easily and is a lead for the rest of the blade. Each movement makes the beast want to writhe, want to cry out, but he knows better now. He knows better than to disturb Tamer while he's at work. Drops of blood bubble up and around the blade, finding space to puddle around Arlen's navel or dripping down his side and onto the cold earth. Then, without letting it sit for too long, Momo rips out the blade. Drops of crimson splash across Arlen's chest, Momo's coat, and the cold floor. Each splatter making a soft, satisfying dripping sound as it falls. Arlen nearly yells from it all, his hips bucking up, making Momo rise just a couple of inches, and fall when the poor beast no longer has the energy.  
Arlen is a bloody, dirty mess when Momo decides that he's had enough for a lesson tonight. He reaches over, tugs off the cardigan from the beast, and cleans his knife off with it before standing up and moving off of him.  
   "I hope this lesson reaches you well, beast. For I will not be so kind next time I catch you running your tongue of such atrocities....Now, hold still, or one of your wounds may bleed more than either of us would have anticipated."

Morlucitanarch spends the next couple of moments helping Arlen to his feet, brushing off the dust, and finding ample cloth to press against his lovingly acquired wounds until he can walk the poor sap to pinksville...where Destiny will be waiting for his return.


End file.
